Voldemart Joins The Fray!
by The Stupendous Jimbo
Summary: Voldemart takes over the Smash Mansion, and it's up to the new guys to save the world! Now accepting OC's!


**WARNING: YOU'RE ABOUT TO BE TROLLED!**

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**Voldemart Joins The Fray!**

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Hey guys, this story is going to be REALLY awesome! I've never read Harry Potter, but I've read the fanfictions (I love the Draco/Hermione lemons. They turn me on!), and I think I have a good idea of how the story goes, so I'm going to write about how Voldemart, the villain of the Harry Potter books, joins the Super Smash Bros. What kind of adventures will take place with this bad boy on the team? Read on and find out. And I swear to God you better fucking review or else my non-existent OC will destroy you! BTW the pairing is Voldemart/Snake. And also, no flaming!

Okay, so one day Voldemart was doing his evil thing (taking over Hogwarts, the magic school in the books), when suddenly out of nowhere a blue portal opened. And this wasn't the kind of portalk you get in the Portal games, I mean this could potentially lead to a whole new world, a dazzling place he never knew. But when he's way up there, it's crystal clear, that he'd be in a whole new world with you.

So after the portal opened, he finished kicking everyone's asses, including the scarface, and zip-a-dee-doo-daa'd through the portal. Valiantly.

After crossing the portal, Voldemart realized he was in the world of Super Smash Bros.

"Holy crap," he declared, "I'm in the world of Super Smash Bros!"

Ahead of him was the Smash Mansion. He bunny hopped over to the front door of the Smash Mansion, and saw a sign nailed to the door of the Smash Mansion that read "Smash Mansion." Clearly this must be the Smash Mansion.

To his right, there was a doorbell. Feeling curious, he rang the doorbell! After a minute of waiting, the door to the Smash Mansion opened, and there stood Master Hand, floating lazily at the door of the Smash Mansion.

"May I help you?" He asked.

"Hi, I'm Voldemart, evil villain of the Harry Potty books." Voldemart said as he extended his pale hand. His fingers were shriveled up, as if his whole entire hand were dead. "May I join you?"

Master Hand turned red. Upon noticing Voldemart's withered hand, he took his gesture as a threat.

"Okay look, mister, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but if you think you can simply straddle on in here with your threats against hand-anity, you've got another thing coming!"

But I'm a villain from the book – "

"DO I LOOK LIKE I FUCKING READ?!"

Before Voldemart could respond, the door to the Smash Mansion slammed shut. It was then Voldemart realized a crucial piece of information pertaining to his predicament. "Oh right – I'm being featured in a Stupendous Jimbo fic…"

Suddenly everything made sense.

He knocked on the door again. This time Crazy Hand opened the door. He stood, floating calmly in front of the dark lord at the door of the Smash Mansion. "May I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Voldemart, evil villain of the Harry Potter books – "

He was cut off when a voice in the background shouted "AND A FIEND!"

He continued. "Right, and a fiend, and I was wondering if I may join you."

Crazy Hand silently stood floating, staring blankly at him with his non-existent eyes.

"Umm hello?"

"Dude… What happened to your nose?"

Voldemart sighed. It was a past he never felt comfortable with, a dark past that would forever haunt him, seeping into every aspect of his existence. One would say it was the root cause for his villainous ways. Ever since he lost his nose in the Kleenex accident, Voldemart felt forever scarred – like he who must not be named. The idea of revealing his scarred history of how he became scarred scarred him mentally. It was also very scary, and he felt it would be equally scarring.

"Let's not talk about that. So may I join?"

"Eh, sure, why not?"

Voldemart jumped up in joy and cried out "YAY!" He was a very happy skipper.

He vaulted through the Smash Mansion in a _totally _conventional fashion until he arrived in a room full of Smashers. He briefly scanned the room, keeping an eye out for any lurking hands ready to pounce. He even made sure to check the walls and ceiling. Feeling especially paranoid, he checked among the inside of his robes (**A/N: THIS IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A NUDE SHOT YOU SICK PERVS!) **to make sure Master Hand wasn't seductively rubbing up on him, the sneaky bastard. **(A/N: I LIKE INTERUPTING THE FLOW OF THE STORY WITH POINTLESS BOLDED AUTHOR NOTES! DON'T FLAME, HATERS! YOLO!)**

"Attention Smashers," Crazy Hand cried out. Some of them looked up at him while the others stared around the room, taking in the ambiance. After a brief pause the muttering subsided, and the glove had everybody's attention. "We are pleased to announce that on this grand day, we shall be welcoming newcomers!"

"Didn't we already do that?" One of them cried out.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean do the whole getting newcomers thing."

"I don't know what you're – "

"Yeah, I remember it! Like this is the same exact setup!"

"How so?"

"We're all conveniently gathered into a massive auditorium, newcomers are announced, Master Hand's crazy, and if I recall, I believe there was a gay, emo ninja involved."

Then Crazy Hand guffawed. Loudly. And for those who don't know what a guffaw is, it's a loud, boisterous laugh. And while we're on that note, boisterous means energetic, noisy, and cheerful. Take notes, folks, for we have officially reached the epitome of hyperbole.

After that number, the glove nervously cleared his throat. "**(A/N: Insert onomatopoeia personifying the cries of a flooded throat here)**, let's not talk about that!"

Crazy Hand sighed. It was a past he never felt comfortable with, a dark past that would forever haunt him, seeping into every aspect of his existence. One would say it was the root cause for his crazy ways.

He continued. "Anyways, I'd like to welcome Voldemart!"

The crowed cheered their cheery cheers as they cheered at the two individuals on stage that were not cheering in a cheery way. After a bowl of cheerios, the two fighters felt cheery so they cheered each other on in a cheery fashion that made the audience cheer.

With a bow, Voldemart stepped up to the conveniently placed mic that appeared as if it appeared out of nowhere. "Greetings, muggles."

A "muggle" is the colloquial term for marijuana. The word "muggle" can be pluralized to "muggles", and still retain the same meaning. For example, it's not uncommon for someone to "muggle up" before math class. When nobody's looking, they often go to the restroom to pop out a dime bag o' muggles. Afterwards, the rest of the day is smooth sailing.

With a chuckle, Crazy Hand patted Voldemart on the back. "So why don't you tell us about yourself."

"Alright," said the chipper dark lord. "For starters, I'm a dark wizard, and I'm the main antagonist from the Harry Potter books."

Somebody raised their hand.

"Yes?"

"Don't you mean you're the main antagonist from the Troll movies?"

"Come again?"

"You know, the 1984 movie, Troll?"

"I think you're mistaken…"

"How so?"

"The Harry Potter I'm trying to destroy is a scrawny, black-haired bespectacled boy who didn't know he was a wizard until an old man showed up at his house."

"Just like in the movie, Troll."

Voldemart started feeling angry, and nobody likes an angry Voldemart. He took a deep breath. "What do you mean?"

"The movie Troll was about a dark haired, unassuming boy named Harry Potter Jr. who learns about his inner wizard by an old sorcerer."

Voldemart, much to his chagrin, turned pale. He dug into his robe and pulled out a small, wooden stick. The stick looked to be about 15 inches in length, with small clusters of elderberries running down the end. A plastic cap wrapped around the tip, with the words "Made in China" written on it. He pointed to the audience. "Alright, who the hell are you?"

"My name's Roy."

Voldemart pointed the Eldest Wand at him. "So Roy, what are you trying to say?"

"I'm simply suggesting your story half-way resembles a previously made movie."

Suddenly Voldemart screamed out in agony. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

The room went quiet. Roy started trembling. "Whoa, what's wrong?"

"DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT WORD AGAIN!"

"What word?"

"HALF!"

Little did anyone know, Voldemart hated the word "half", because it reminded him of half-breeds. In the Harry Potter books, half-breeds were the offspring's of humans and magic-users. Ironically, Voldemart happened to be a half-breed, and everybody at school never failed to remind him. When he was young, the kids would often pour half-and-half into his morning pumpkin juice, while teachers would occasionally take half a point away from Slitherin, just to mess with him. To make things worse, even the principal, Dumbly-door, would get in on it. Every time his birthday rolled around, he'd give him half a cake, along with a half-liter bottle of butter-beer.

Unable to control his anger any longer, the dark wizzie shook his wand, and shouted "FERMATA KADABRA", the raping spell, and killed the redhead. Because nobody fucks with Voldemart. Nobody.

Suddenly, silence swiftly swept the sea of scared Smashers. Fear filled the flat of fighters. Shit officially went down in the hood.

Crazy Hand glared at Voldemart. "What are you doing?"

Voldemart cocked his head and grinned. "I'm now taking over!"

Ghastly gasps grabbed the group of gladiators.

"You can't do that," Crazy Hand declared. He was quickly proven wrong whenever Voldemart pointed the Eldest Wand at him. He took the gesture and silently hovered over to his brother, Master Hand.

"See, I told you," Master Hand whispered, "can't trust guys with crusty, old hands."

"What are we going to do?" Crazy Hand asked.

Master Hand patted Crazy Hand on the back of his palm. "Don't worry bro, I've got a team on the way to rescue us.

"A team?"

"No, you idiot, a team!"

"What do you mean, a team?"

"For the last time, I'm not hiring the stupid A-Team, I've got a special team of fighters, the most elite warriors ever to grace the planet, and they're on their way to rescue us!"

**(A/N: THIS IS WHERE IT GETS GOOD, GUYS!)**

Crazy Hand got excited. "When will they be here?"

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door of the Smash Mansion. Master Hand snickered. "Looks like they're here!"

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**OMG so listen up guys, and gals, and all my pals! This is where the OC's come in! It's really simple; just provide the listed information, and whatever else you feel necessary. And don't forget to tell me what you think of the story (who knows, it just might pay off.)**

**Name:**

**Age:**

**Gender:**

**Appearance:**

**Bio:**

**Personality:**

**Interests:**

**Favorite Foods:**

**Hobbies:**

**Species/Race:**

**Religion, if applicable:**

**Weapons, if applicable:**

**Fighting Style:**

**Skills:**

**Talents, if applicable:**

**Taunts:**

**Final Smash:**

**Love Interest, if applicable:**

**Political Stance, if applicable:**

**Work Related History, if applicable:**

**Marital Status, if applicable:**

**Special Requests, if applicable:**

**Reason You Chose OC:**

**Salary/Income, if applicable:**

**Would your OC consent to a background check? (Required for admittance)**

**Would your OC consent to a drug test? (Required for admittance.)**

**Does your OC have a history with drugs? (Note, the existence of drug use does not disqualify you from selection, nor will your OC be discriminated against)**

**Does your OC have a criminal record? (Note, the existence of a criminal record will not automatically disqualify you from selection)**

**Has your OC ever been convicted of a crime? (Note, Do not answer "Yes" if your conviction record has been annulled, expunged, sealed, pardoned, erased or impounded. Omit minor traffic citations; only job related convictions are considered for your selection)**

**Is your OC multilingual? If so, please construct a lift of languages your OC speaks.**

**Are there any other qualifying features revolving around your OC not mentioned in this application? Any and all material accepted.**

**Thank you for your application!**

**WARNING: YOU MUST COMPLETE LIST FOR YOUR OC TO BE FEATURED IN FUTURE CHAPTERS OF THIS STORY! FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN AN AUTOMATIC DISQUALIFICATION! **


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